


Control

by Not_You



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M, Rape Role-play, Verbal Humiliation, evil fluff, villains need love too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 06:40:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a kinkmeme prompt.</p><p>Moriarty likes to lose control, but only in bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Control

He bites and kicks and scratches like a girl, hissing, "I despise you" and then moaning when Moran pins his wrists over his head, grinning at Moriarty's whorish grinding along his thigh.

"Maybe so, but you love this." He leans down and nuzzles Moriarty's throat, relishing the way his breath catches and then releases in a helpless moan when he bites. Moran growls and presses hard, listening to the light wheezing of Moriarty's partially compressed breath. His hips buck twice, and he quivers all over as Moran licks the ring-shaped bruise his teeth have left. "You love being my whore." He holds Moriarty down as he starts thrashing again, thrusting hard against him and making him moan, even as he turns his head away in a feeble bid to hide his reaction. Moran holds his wrists with one hand and uses the other to yank his hair and force him to look up at Moran, eyes dark and wild.

He lets him go and growls with pleasure as those spidery hands strike him again, nails digging into his skin and leaving long red lines. He yanks Moriarty's shirt, waistcoat, and vest off, tossing them aside to crumple on the floor. That done, he catches those hands again, using his own long-discarded tie to bind Moriarty's hands together. The professor's tie secures them to the headboard. He fights desperately for good long while, and Moran pants, pinning his hips and watching him. It's one of the most beautiful things he has ever seen in his life, and he tells the professor so. "I love having you helpless like this," He murmurs, and digs his nails into Moriarty's flanks hard enough to draw blood, making him squirm and wail, the sound ragged and weak.

"No..."

"Yes." He smirks, leaning in and biting one pale nipple, making Moriarty yelp and jump under him.

"Aah... you bastard..."

He grins, and bites the other side. Moriarty squirms and twitches, hissing at the drag of damp linen over his cock. Moran frees him even as he struggles and protests, wriggling out of his own trousers and pants, kicking them over the edge of the mattress. "Always hard for me, like a good slut."

"Moran, as god is my witness--ohhh!"

Moran chuckles, squeezing Moriarty's prick. "He'll see you buggered, is what."

"Damn you, don't you dare!"

Moran laughs, and pushes two slick fingers into him as he moans about how filthy it is and how Moran should stop, nearly sobbing, struggling to get away from his own pleasure, tossing his head from side to side. "Moran! Moran no, not there!"

"Why not?" He purrs, adding a third, forcing his fingers deeper and spreading them as wide as he can, making Moriarty's eyes roll back and his mouth hang open soundlessly. "Why shouldn't I, when my sweet little whore likes it so much?" He actually blushes at that, and Moran grins, twisting his hand and making him cry out. "Yes. You know what you want."

Moriarty groans, eyes huge and dark as he stares up at Moran, shuddering all over as he forces those long legs apart, pressing Moriarty's knees up and sliding his fingers out of him. He stares at Moran's cock as he slicks it, shaking. 

"Don't worry. I know you can take it." He grins, lining himself up against the professor's hole and savoring the helpless fear in his eyes as he struggles, headboard creaking as he yanks at the ties, wriggling under Moran.

"No! No, it's too big Moran, I can't, I can't, don't--" He screams as Moran forces his way in, legs kicking uselessly as he bucks under Moran, his own cock as hard as Moran has ever seen it, the tip connected to his belly by a strand of clear fluid. His eyes have rolled back again, and he squeals when Moran rams himself as deep as he can go, rocking the man under him and the entire bed as he ruts into Moriarty, jarring loud, helpless noises out of him. He slaps him across the face, making him whine in a way that barely sounds human, leaning down and covering his chest in hard bites that make him groan in pain as he fucks himself on Moran, so hot and tight he feels as though he'll go mad. "Moran!" His voice is desperate, broken. "Moran, touch me! I can't-- "

"You don't need me to," He growls, slamming into him so hard they'll both be sore the next day, making Moriarty yelp, "you'll come on my cock like a good whore."

He sobs Moran's name, bucking and thrashing, his eyes huge when Moran grabs his throat and squeezes as he pounds into him, watching him struggle to breathe for what feels like an eternity before letting go just in time for Moriarty to suck in a massive breath that he lets out again as a scream, convulsing under Moran. His body tightens over and over and over as he thrashes and shudders, crying his throat raw and groaning when he feels Moran spend inside him with a low and luxuriant moan as he grinds into Moriarty as though he wants to climb inside.

Finally, Moriarty is too sensitive to bear any more, and whimpers, sliding off of Moran's cock and curling into a tight ball by the headboard, quivering. Moran sighs, and just lies where he is for a moment, face-down and boneless. After a while of silence, he can sit up, and does, rubbing Moriarty's back. "Are you all right, sir?"

"Yes, Moran. Oh, _god_." He quivers all over, an aftershock running through him, and Moran chuckles, kissing the back of his neck. The knots have been yanked tight by all the struggling, and it takes Moran a moment to unbind the professor's hands. He succeeds at last, and Moriarty whimpers as Moran presses soft kisses to the red marks on his wrists, and sighs as he gathers him close, kissing his forehead.


End file.
